


Kind of Extraordinary

by jongincident



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bank Robbery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongincident/pseuds/jongincident
Summary: “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to fuck you or anything, I’m robbing a bank and need an attractive male to distract an overweight guard that runs the night shift. Clothing will be provided. All you need to do is hold his attention for 15 minutes and 49 seconds. Are you in or out Baekhyun?”
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	Kind of Extraordinary

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me when I saw a screenshot of a tinder conversation where a guy asked someone to help him with a bank robbery, so I submitted it to the BAE fest but no one chose it and I thought the prompt was too good to pass off.

_ The Dow has seen another fall of 1000 points as business investors lose confidence… _

Baekhyun kneaded his temples as he closed out of the article. A similar headline had been at the top of the news for a week now, as if the media loved to rub the poor state of the economy in everyone’s faces. Already, the effects were present. Just yesterday, his neighbor Sehun had his brother move in with him. Sehun’s brother was an exterior painter until no one wanted to spend money on dolling up their houses anymore. 

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Baekhyun had been arriving at work consistently late for the past week. His alarms were of no use and coffee failed to keep him focused on the work at hand. It took hours for him to fall asleep, despite the number of ASMR videos he used. He slept lightly, waking up at the slightest of sounds like a text notification or his neighbor indulging in late-night snacks. 

A knock on the door startled Baekhyun. He sat up, fingers flew to his keyboard, feigning productivity. The door opened without Baekhyun’s permission. Here at Exodeux, employees could freely enter into any workers’ offices. To foster a collaborative atmosphere, as the employee contract stated. But for Baekhyun, it was torture. 

“Baekhyun, can we talk?” Junmyeon, his boss, smiled sweetly. God, Junmyeon and his shiny, apple-like cheeks, so sugary that it gave Baekhyun a cavity. 

“Sure,” Baekhyun agreed politely. As bad as his mood was, he could never spite his boss. Junmyeon was just too pure. 

Junmyeon closed the door and pulled up a chair so they sat face-to-face. “Before we begin, I just want to say that you’re a wonderful worker and I love working with you. Even outside of work, I’m glad to call you my friend,” he started. 

Baekhyun grinned at this compliment, glad that his boss’ visit has brought some positivity into his unpleasant day. 

“And I would love to continue working with you, if only that was possible. But as you know, times are difficult right now and our company is tight on resources.” Junmyeon handed a document over to Baekhyun. “I’m sorry, Baekhyun. I hope we can continue the good terms between us.”

It took a moment for Baekhyun to process Junmyeon’s words. His grin slowly slid off his face as he looked at the document. 

_ Notice of Layoff Letter.  _

_ 3.25.2020. _

_ Dear Byun Baekhyun,  _

_ It is with regret that I inform you that due to budgetary constraints, Exodeux will be unable to utilize your services. This layoff will be effective at the close of the working day on 3.31.2020… _

Baekhyun glanced up slowly, fingers trembling. “Am I being… laid off?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. 

“I’m afraid so,” Junmyeon confirmed. How could Junmyeon have that toothy smile, even at a time like this? His smile was no longer sweet, only mocking. Baekhyun wanted to wipe it right off his face. 

“Oh my god.” Baekhyun leaned back into his chair, wondering how this already horrible day has gotten infinitely worse. For some reason, he found the entire situation funny. Ridiculously pathetic, that is. A chuckle escaped from his lips, and soon, he leaned his head back and laughed. The economy was crashing, he just lost his job, and the stability his mother had promised after sixteen years of education was nowhere in sight. 

Junmyeon glanced worriedly at him, no longer smiling. Silently, he bowed and exited Baekhyun’s office. 

Baekhyun bit his lip, cursing himself for his foolishness. He had naively thought that the recession wouldn’t and couldn’t affect him. He was a white collar worker with a degree at a decent university, not a manual laborer. The recession wasn’t supposed to hit him, at least not yet. 

He had better get his shit together and devise a post-layoff plan soon. 

A week later, he was the last one at work. The clock showed a quarter past eight and his stomach growled in complaint. Baekhyun didn’t want looks of pity, so he purposefully stayed after everyone had already left to pack up his belongings. 

Packing was taking longer than he expected. Each object carried some significance of the past two years at Exodeux. Like the stapler that he had punctured himself with when rushing to turn in an inventory report. Or the hot pink sticky notes he had used to plan out busy schedules. He caressed a photograph of him with two of his college classmates-turned-coworkers, Jongdae and Minseok, recalling blissful nights drinking at the local pub. 

As he reminisced, he began to think what could have happened differently. Maybe if he had been more sociable with everyone, he would still be employed. Maybe if he had worked overtime on weekends instead of going clubbing, Junmyeon would have begged the higher-ups to let Baekhyun stay. 

He sighed as the last piece of packing tape tore evenly across the tape cutter. Tomorrow was his first day of unemployment and he still lacked a plan. He had tried to find a job, he really had. But demand for workers was near zero while the supply of qualified labor was at an all-time high. As an economics major, he understood that this was out of his control, that no amount of effort would be successful in securing a stable job. So, with his spirit sagging and despair weighing down his shoulders, he turned off the building lights, leaving behind a short chapter of his life. 

He initially intended to spend the next month relaxing — baking, making music, and reconnecting with loved ones. But after a few failed attempts at making Bourbon Brûlée Pumpkin Pie, he figured he should be saving money, not wasting it. Even music-making, a hobby he had rarely had time to pursue, was fruitless. He grasped desperately for inspiration, but came back with nothing. It seemed that his creative juices only flowed when he didn’t have time. Now, he had too much time. 

Just a few nights ago, his finger hovered over the button to call his mother, but he couldn’t bring himself to press it. While he had already accepted his state of unemployment, he couldn’t bear to face parental disappointment. The shame of a mother was the worst feeling in the world — especially a mother who craved stability over anything else. Stability was why he had chosen an economics major in the first place. 

Friday nights went from drinking and chatting merrily at the pub with his best buddies to whatever this was — body splayed out across his unmade bed, a numb sensation washing over him. Once again, he revisited his contacts list and stared at his mother’s phone number until his eyes blurred. He knew that the call would be inevitable, that he should not delay any longer, that it was better to get it over with. He took a deep breath and was about to press down— 

_ Gee gee gee gee baby baby baby.  _ His phone vibrated and played its classic ringtone. Baekhyun cursed, reminding himself that he needed to change his ringtone. 

The caller ID looked familiar, but no contact name showed up. That didn’t throw him off; he only saved the contact information for the most important people in his life, which amounted to about ten people. 

“Hello?” he answered.

“Is this Baekhyun?” a deep voice replied, smooth like honey. 

“Yes, that’s me. Who is this?”

“It’s Chanyeol! Park Chanyeol, from college. I can’t believe you haven’t changed your number.”

Baekhyun froze. Park Chanyeol… no wonder the caller ID was familiar. He had deleted Chanyeol’s contact four years ago when they broke up. Amazing how a string of numbers could stick in his head for that long, even when the hard feelings he had possessed had already faded. 

“Chanyeol… This is a bit of a surprise. Why are you calling?”

“I know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but I wanted to ask you a favor.”

Baekhyun frowned. Were they even close enough for Chanyeol to ask him for a favor? “What kind of favor?”

Chanyeol laughed jollily. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to fuck you or anything, I’m robbing a bank and need an attractive male to distract an overweight guard that runs the night shift. Clothing will be provided. All you need to do is hold his attention for 15 minutes and 49 seconds. Are you in or out Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck?!” he yelled in disbelief. He then lowered his voice, not wanting his neighbors to hear. “What kind of favor is this? What the hell are you thinking?”

“Hey, hey. Look, it’s no lie that money’s tight. So what’s a better way to solve that than taking money from a bank? It’s like manually lowering interest rates,” Chanyeol explained nonchalantly. He had always been like this — honest, bold, and reckless. Once he latched onto an idea, he always followed through. In college, Chanyeol was the kind of guy who vandalized stores’ property when he was mistreated by an employee. This shamelessness was one of the reasons they broke up. Baekhyun didn’t need a wrecking ball in his life; he needed security. 

Baekhyun sighed. “I know there’s no way I can convince you to not do this. But why do you want me to get involved in this mess?”

“Well, like I said before, I need an attractive male to distract the guard. You’re the hottest person I could think of.” Baekhyun almost blushed at that.  _ Almost _ . “And Jongdae told me that… you might need some financial help right now.”

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes. “Jongdae told you what??”

“Chill! He was only trying to help. The recession won’t get any better for maybe a year. What are you going to do?”

Baekhyun bit his lip. Although he didn’t have a solid plan going forward, nothing involved robbing a bank. He groaned, knowing that Chanyeol’s poor expectations toward the economy was accurate. 

“You’ll get thirty percent of the money,” Chanyeol added. 

Baekhyun shook his head, as if Chanyeol could see him. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.”

“Wait! Forty percent. Please,” Chanyeol begged.

Baekhyun hesitated, remembering how his parents were still expecting him to buy a house for them soon. No, stop. What was he thinking? If he got caught, it would be the end of his career. 

“Fine. We’ll split even. I know that you’re worried about getting caught. That won’t happen, I promise.”

Baekhyun drew in a long, cool breath. Chanyeol had always kept his promises. If they weren’t going to get caught and he got fifty percent of the profit, then maybe… “That sounds more like a deal.”

He heard Chanyeol’s smile through the phone. “You won’t be disappointed.”

For some reason, Baekhyun had a feeling that he wouldn’t be let down. Chanyeol had always been able to BS his way through anything with headstrong determination, no matter how devious and ridiculous his method was. And maybe what Baekhyun needed was an adventure. A change from his hazy and monotonous schedule of working fifty hours a week and then spending the weekend drunk with liquor and EDM music.

Plus, Chanyeol did say that Baekhyun was the hottest person he could think of.

***

Seeing Chanyeol one-on-one for the first time in four years was nothing like he had in mind. Over the past few years, they had only seen each other occasionally at large group parties with their college friends, and had always exchanged courteous greetings but had never held a full conversation. A year after their breakup, Chanyeol had tried approaching them at one of these parties. Baekhyun had dipped quickly, muttering unbelievable excuses about needing to call his mother. This had continued for the next few parties — Chanyeol coming up to him with a lopsided grin and Baekhyun quietly slipping away.

It wasn’t that Baekhyun hated Chanyeol. He could never hate his ex. He just couldn’t understand why Chanyeol had still wanted to talk to him even after he had treated Chanyeol like shit during their breakup. Every time they had made eye contact, Baekhyun saw Chanyeol’s large teary eyes, heard Chanyeol’s husky voice crack in despair, felt those trembling large fingers grasping his wrist. Seeing Chanyeol at those parties had made Baekhyun think back to his college self — unstable, uncertain, barely standing on his two feet. He would swallow down the disgust, telling himself that he wasn’t weak anymore. He was capable. Stable. 

Soon, Chanyeol had stopped trying to talk to him. 

Now, Baekhyun no longer felt noxious at the sight of Chanyeol. The latter looked the same, but felt different. Same messy black hair that was parted to the left, same brilliant smile that used to stir butterflies in Baekhyun’s stomach, same outgoing attitude that could convince Baekhyun to rob a bank, among other things. But this Chanyeol stood up straighter, looked more sculpted, and had an air of sophistication about him. 

“Hey, what did you want to talk about?” Baekhyun asked. Two days after their first call, Chanyeol had texted him to meet up at a boisterous burger place. The perfect place to munch on fries while planning a sketchy heist.

“I thought we should go over some of the logistics in person. Just so the police can’t trace our text messages, you know?” 

Baekhyun nodded in agreement. “Okay, go on.”

Chanyeol grinned and pulled a notepad and pen out of his pocket. He jotted a few notes down, brow furrowing in concentration, before tearing out the paper and handing it to Baekhyun.

_ 4/12 1 AM _

_ I’ll pick u up @ 12, entrance of apartment complex — text me the address _

_ Don’t be late! _

“I need you to do anything to distract the guard,” Chanyeol continued.

“Anything?”

“Anything that’s not suspicious. Talk about music, complain about the economy, make up a sob story, whatever. And remember that you can use your body to your advantage.”

Baekhyun choked on a piece of salad. “M-my body?”

Chanyeol raised his brows, as if this was an obvious idea. “Well, yeah. Why else would I need an attractive person? Come on, you’re an expert at distracting people. I’m sure you’ll think of something. Oh, and before I forget—” he pulled out a lumpy Safeway plastic bag. “Here’s what you’ll be wearing.”

Baekhyun peeked into the bag. His fingers brushed against the black fabric made of a semi-transparent mesh material. He looked up. “You want me to wear  _ this _ ?”

Chanyeol nodded, still smiling, eyes wide and innocent. No, not innocent — just merely unphased. He looked way too enthusiastic and confident about this entire ordeal, as if he received sadistic pleasure from Baekhyun’s suffering. 

“Fine.” Baekhyun once again gave into Chanyeol’s plans. It would be worth it — he hoped — once they succeeded.

They ate their meals in an awkward silence. Baekhyun tried to ignore Chanyeol’s incessant stare, staring down at his plate. 

“So, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol spoke first, causing Baekhyun to glance up. “What are you going to do with the money?”

Baekhyun swallowed a mouthful of burger and cleared his throat. “I haven’t thought about it much. Probably pay my bills in advance, buy some stocks while they’re low, or a house for my parents.”

Chanyeol sighed. “I’m afraid the last one won’t be an option. Aren’t your parents going to wonder about where you got the money? They’ll ask about your job for sure.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun frowned, realizing the validity of Chanyeol’s statement. Chanyeol had always been smart, smarter than Baekhyun even, he just didn’t apply himself in conventional ways. 

“They don’t know yet, do they?” Chanyeol asked. 

Baekhyun shook his head. 

“You’ll be okay. They don’t need to know,” said Chanyeol. “If it makes you feel better, my parents have given up on me already. Yours’ care about you, you’re lucky.” 

Baekhyun shrugged. Secretly, he was surprised. Chanyeol hadn’t spoken much about his relationship with his parents back when they were dating. Baekhyun was curious, but not enough to ask about it.

“What have you been up to lately?” Chanyeol asked yet another question. 

Baekhyun hesitated before answering, suddenly reminded of all those times he had left Chanyeol standing cluelessly at parties. “Not much, to be honest. I can’t seem to do anything productive.” 

It would be polite for him to ask the same question back to Chanyeol. He opened his lips, words about to leave his tongue — but no words came out. His mouth closed, swallowing dryly. 

He couldn’t do this anymore. It wasn’t Chanyeol’s fault, it was all his own. He couldn’t look at Chanyeol and ignore all their history, see Chanyeol smile as though nothing had happened. Even though they were both grown up now, both carried different values, Baekhyun didn’t want to revisit the past. Guilt began to gnaw at his stomach. Why did Chanyeol still even want to interact with him? Baekhyun’s cheeks were hot with humiliation.

He stood up. His chair slid backward, legs screeching as they rubbed against the tiled floor. “I’m really sorry, I forgot I have somewhere to be,” he said as he plopped fifty dollars on the table. “Keep the change. I… I’ll see you on the twelfth.” 

Baekhyun turned his back around before he could see Chanyeol’s reaction. A confused expression flashed across Chanyeol’s face, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Soon, it was gone. His eyes followed Baekhyun’s disappearing figure, pupils deep with an unknown emotion — with longing, perhaps. 

***

Baekhyun considered ditching the whole plan. He pondered for hours as he paced around his living room, lay on the couch, and even while he slept. He dreamed of the infinite possibilities in which their heist could go wrong, but he also dreamed of the infinite potential successes. In the end, he decided that he had no better alternative but to trust in Chanyeol’s words. If they were caught, Baekhyun could probably lie his way out of being involved. Probably.

On the eve of the twelfth, Baekhyun shimmied into the outfit that Chanyeol had prepared for him. Along with the mesh shirt, he wore tight leather pants that hugged his thighs. As he stared at his mirror reflection, he felt self-conscious about the amount of skin shown. It wasn’t that Baekhyun disliked his body. Although he worked long hours, he didn’t have an office body. Rather, he was afraid of exposing himself and drawing unnecessary attention, when for the past few years he had become accustomed to blending in. Even when he went clubbing, he always wore a loosely-buttoned dress shirt and khakis, never revealing more than he needed to. This was well out of his comfort zone. Maybe he had reached for this kind of apparel in college, but never in his professional life. 

He slid into a leather jacket that he zipped up securely, hiding his upper body, before he stepped out into the chill April night.

Chanyeol pulled up in a rickety red Toyota Camry. He was dressed plainly in all black, but still carrying that wide grin that looked anything but criminal-like. 

Chanyeol clucked his tongue upon seeing Baekhyun’s leather jacket. “You’re going to have to take that off later,” he said. 

Baekhyun glared. “Do you want me to get hypothermia? I’ll just leave it unzipped,” he replied as he pulled the zipper down. 

Chanyeol’s eyes raked over Baekhyun’s exposed chest. “I chose the right person for this,” he commented softly, just loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. Baekhyun bit his lips to prevent a smug smile. 

Chanyeol’s portable speaker began to play sensual music which reverberated through Baekhyun’s body. Unconsciously, his fingers began to play an invisible keyboard on his thighs. Both his body and mind began to loosen up. 

A wave of nostalgia hit him, throwing him back to those midnight drives in college. Speakers turned up to the max, mind high in the clouds, Chanyeol’s hand on his thigh, worries gone and all focused on the bliss of the present. Times when he could forget about academic pressures and the uncertainty of the future. 

Out of nowhere, Chanyeol pulled out a flask and offered it to Baekhyun. “Take a swig,” he suggested. “It will help you relax.”

Baekhyun wanted to laugh as he accepted the flask. He had forgotten just how audacious Chanyeol was. While previously Baekhyun might have considered this foolish, he had to admit this was clever — drinking on the job would ease his nerves and make it easier for him to do whatever it took to distract the night guard. 

They parked a fifteen-minute walk away from the bank in a back-street alley where there were no security cameras. The alcohol had already taken effect, leaving Baekhyun sober enough to walk straight but with a jolly warmth rushing through his body. 

“Are you nervous?” he asked. 

Chanyeol’s voice was muffled by the mask he wore. “Nope. Are you?” 

“Just a little.” He plunged his hands in his pockets and balled his fists. “But I’m kind of excited.”

“You got this. If anyone can distract this guard, it’s you.” Chanyeol smiled supportively before turning serious. “When you see me leave the bank, wait five minutes and then start walking back to the car. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay.” Baekhyun wanted to ask for more information about logistics, like how the hell Chanyeol is going to surpass internal security measures and conceal a large black bag, but his mouth stayed shut. If he asked more questions, he was afraid his nerves would get the better of him. For now, he needed to stay focused on the mission at hand. He would trust the process, trust Chanyeol. 

“There he is,” Chanyeol whispered and pointed at a rectangular lump standing outside the back entrance of the bank. He nudged Baekhyun forward. “Go on, work your magic.”

Baekhyun took a few hesitant steps, his earlier excitement replaced by trepidation as he realized  _ this was it _ . He craned his neck back to look at Chanyeol, who gave a reassuring smile and nod. Baekhyun clenched his fist. He could do it. 

Baekhyun straightened his back and lifted his head, transitioning smoothly into the persona he carried at clubs. He practically strutted up to the guard. 

The guard looked like the typical donut-loving policeman. As Baekhyun neared, he almost coughed from the cigarette smoke that burned his lungs. 

“Hello sir,” he purred, tapping the guard lightly on the arm. 

“Whaddya want?” the guard growled and turned his head to Baekhyun. The guard cleared his throat. “I mean, how may I help you?” Even in the dark, Baekhyun could see how the guard’s eyes lit up.

“Sir, I’m lost. Could you help me find my way home?” He sounded as helpless as possible, voice quivering like he was about to cry. Baekhyun didn’t normally seduce people, but he was an impressive actor.

“There’s a city map a block away in that direction.” The guard gestured with his chin across the street. 

“I’m afraid of walking there myself, looking like this and all.” Baekhyun adjusted his leather jacket so that his entire upper body was exposed. “Could you help me, sir?”

The guard’s eyes began to roam his body ferociously. He licked his lips and swallowed thickly with saliva. Baekhyun had to exert all his energy to prevent punching the guard. 

“You can call me Marcus.” The guard said as he adjusted his jacket. 

“Can I… call you daddy?” Baekhyun asked as his hands found his way to Marcus’ tie, straightening it. He made sure to show off his delicate fingers which were embellished with chunky silver rings. These fingers, he had been told by Chanyeol actually, drove people insane. 

Marcus nearly choked at this, but he nodded. 

“Okay daddy, please take me home.” Baekhyun tugged on Marcus’ sleeve with a sly smile. 

Marcus almost complied, taking a few steps away from the bank. Baekhyun bit the inside of his cheek, urging Marcus to keep walking. But then the guard stopped and shook his head. “Sorry, I have to stand guard.”

Baekhyun had to think quickly. The damsel in distress strategy wasn’t strong enough to wrap Marcus around his finger. Maybe instead of focusing on needing help, he should offer himself up. In a split second, his expression changed. Now his eyes were dark and sultry, lips pulled into a smirk. 

“At least let me keep you company,” he whispered into Marcus’ ear, lips grazing its tip. “I’ll wait until your shift is over.” As he did this, he caught Chanyeol sneaking into the bank out of the corner of his eye.

Marcus shivered but didn’t pull away. He let out a low growl as Baekhyun took hold of his hand. “Okay, I’ll take you home once this is over, babe.” 

“Good. I’ll thank you with a nice treat,” Baekhyun winked. 

Behind them, the bank door closed with a click. Marcus was about to turn his head around but Baekhyun was faster. He squeezed Marcus’ meaty hand, locking the guard’s attention on him. 

“You know, I had a rough week,” he began. He didn’t know what he was doing, just that he needed to hold onto Marcus’ attention. Baekhyun had always been an expert at improvisation, a skill that was useful in the strangest situations. “My boyfriend broke up with me and it felt like I lost half of myself.” 

Marcus’ eyes turned from lustful to sympathetic as he watched Baekhyun spin a sob story about how supposedly, the latter’s boyfriend had claimed to only have pretended to love him. Baekhyun described how he had known that their relationship wouldn’t be sustainable, that it began to break a few months ago, but he had tried so hard to latch on. He began to question everything he knew — was everything about their relationship fake? Were all his boyfriend’s praises lies? Did he not deserve love?

As he rambled on and on, Baekhyun realized that the situation he was describing sounded familiar. It hit him that his “boyfriend’s” actions were what he had done to Chanyeol. How ironic, Baekhyun thought. He was helping his ex rob a bank by exploiting their breakup story. 

Marcus was surprisingly a good listener, despite the falsity of Baekhyun’s situation. “That scum deserves to die,” the guard spit after Baekhyun had finished speaking. 

“You don’t think I’m ugly and not worthy of love, do you?” Baekhyun asked, leaning into Marcus. 

“No babe, you’re beautiful and sexy at the same time,” the guard confessed. “Who wouldn’t love you?” Marcus stroked Baekhyun’s face, starting at his cheekbones to cupping his jaw. Marcus’ fingers were rough and calloused.

Baekhyun clenched his teeth, using all his willpower not to flinch away. Relief washed over him when he saw a dark, lumpy figure slip out of the bank. His mission was almost over. 

“When is your shift over?”

The guard checked his watch. “Just five more minutes and I’m all yours.” 

Baekhyun hummed and spent the few remaining minutes flirting with the guard. Marcus never peeled his eyes off Baekhyun, gaze bordering lust and tenderness. Surprisingly, more than disgust, Baekhyun felt pity for Marcus; the poor guy probably had no idea what it meant to be loved and never received the attention he craved. And the one time he did experience appreciation was all an act to carry out a heist. 

Once the five minutes were up, Marcus accompanied Baekhyun to the map as promised. Baekhyun leaned on Marcus as they walked, giving the illusion that he needed the guard by his side. 

“Here we are,” Marcus said as they arrived before a map of the city painted on a wall. 

“This is it then.” Baekhyun detached himself from Marcus and peered at the map.

“Aren’t you going to invite me over?” Marcus’ voice was hopeful. 

“You’ve done enough for me today.” He pecked Marcus on the cheek, lips brushing over stubbly, dry skin. God, Chanyeol better have robbed a generous amount of money. “Thank you,  _ daddy _ .” 

Before Marcus could protest, Baekhyun parted briskly and rounded the corner at the end of the street. His heart ricocheted in his chest as he waited, praying that Marcus wouldn’t follow. At last when he was certain the coast was clear, Baekhyun let out a deep breath and wiped his lips. He shuddered at the encounter. 

Now, he had to get back to Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun was used to dealing with cunning liars who clawed each others’ throats to rise to the top of the business chain. The sight of Chanyeol waiting patiently in the car was comforting, a reminder that not everyone bowed down to predatory desires. Not that Baekhyun was surprised; Chanyeol had always kept his word. 

“Let’s leave this place first,” Baekhyun suggested and Chanyeol readily agreed. 

“How did it go?” Chanyeol inquired, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging loosely by his side. 

“Surprisingly smooth.” A smile crept onto Baekhyun’s lips. Leftover adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, making him jittery. 

“Of course it did. I knew you could do it.” Chanyeol grinned, matching Baekhyun’s expression, and soon relieved laughter bubbled from both their lips. They had successfully robbed a bank in the middle of a recession by seducing the overweight night guard. What the hell was going on? 

They pulled up into an abandoned parking lot. Chanyeol reached in his bag and handed a large stack of one-hundred dollar bills to Baekhyun. 

“Here’s ten grand. I didn’t take too much at once. They won’t notice the difference for at least a few weeks, if at all.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes widened at the cash, which felt heavy in his hands. “Holy shit” was all he could say, over and over again, as Chanyeol drove him home. 

When they reached Baekhyun’s apartment complex, Chanyeol moved quickly to exit the car and open Baekhyun’s door for him. “Thanks a lot.” 

“No need to thank me,” Baekhyun replied. The atmosphere around them suddenly quieted down as their adrenaline dwindled. 

“So… How about we do this again? If you’re willing of course.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes widened at the request. Do this again? He pondered, running through that night’s events and realizing that he was left with no regrets, only an exciting thrill and the satisfactory weight in his hands. “Sure,” he found himself agreeing. 

Chanyeol looked pleased. “Okay. I’ll text you the details. Take care, Baekhyun.”

“You too,” said Baekhyun. 

Halfway back to his apartment, Baekhyun realized that he hadn’t heard a car engine sound. Turning around, he noticed that Chanyeol was still there, leaning on his Toyota Camry. Even when Baekhyun entered his apartment and peered out the window, Chanyeol’s tall figure still loomed in the distance, staring at him with meaningful eyes. 

***

The next few days were spent in agony. The thrill of the midnight heist caused everything else to pale in comparison. Every effort to occupy his time physically ended up with Baekhyun turning inward, lost in a maze of thoughts. 

While standing in line for a morning coffee, he recalled the sob story he had told to the night guard. He had broken up with Chanyeol the same way, had looked into Chanyeol’s eyes and declared that he had felt no love in their relationship. Baekhyun wondered if Chanyeol saw through his lies. Was that why Chanyeol had been so insistent on talking to him afterward? Or perhaps, Chanyeol had believed Baekhyun’s lies and just wanted to remain friends? 

They had broken up over differences in values. Chanyeol preferred living in the moment and riding the tides of fate. He studied marketing and visual arts but lacked a vision for their practical applications. On the other hand, Baekhyun’s parents had already planned his path to become a surgeon when he was five. He had wanted to study sociology in college, but his parents pressured him to choose the safest bet in the social sciences — economics.  _ Think about the future _ , Baekhyun’s parents had repeated. 

This external pressure had caused Baekhyun to crave a source of freedom — a respite that he found in Chanyeol. His ex-boyfriend’s carefree nature functioned like a drug. Around Chanyeol, his personality loosened up. Their relationship never involved competition, unlike with his other classmates and siblings. Chanyeol had pushed Baekhyun to take risks, kindling a confident side of Baekhyun he never knew he possessed. 

When during senior year, Baekhyun’s parents discovered that he lacked a detailed plan after graduation, they had multiplied their pressure. With that came excessive micromanagement. No distractions, especially no dating someone like Chanyeol. They looked down upon his ex-boyfriend with scorn, blaming Chanyeol for Baekhyun’s “downfall.” 

Baekhyun had bent to his parents’ demands so easily, providing only minimum resistance. Maybe if he had tried harder, he and Chanyeol could have worked through their differences. Maybe if he were more courageous, he would have defended Chanyeol against his parents. 

A thousand maybes infiltrated Baekhyun’s thoughts as he waited in the coffee shop line. The cashier called for him multiple times before someone tapped on his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. 

Later while preparing pasta, Baekhyun once again drifted out of the present. He marveled at the irony of his and Chanyeol’s current states. Baekhyun’s efforts to separate himself from uncertainty and achieving economic security had entirely failed. Though they held different value systems, they were both now just unprofessional thieves, balancing precariously on societal loopholes. Fate had its strange ways for bringing people back together. 

Only the pungent odor of burnt pasta jerked him back to reality. 

Another thing that Baekhyun disliked, but couldn’t prevent, was his recent phone attachment. Never leaving its side, Baekhyun sprung up at every notification, heart clenching as he read the name of the sender. The name was never Chanyeol (he had restored Chanyeol as a contact), and Baekhyun hated the disappointment that came with this realization. 

He was on a jog in a nearby park, working out for the first time in weeks, when the text notification came. 

_ 5/5 — I’ll meet u @ same place + time. Wear the same thing! - Chanyeol _

Though his lungs burned, Baekhyun was suddenly rebooted with newfound energy, like a switch turned on inside him. He sprinted the entire way back home. 

***

The second time around, there was no nausea, only pleasure. Different bank, different guard — a female one. This didn’t phase Baekhyun, since he swung both sides of the sexuality spectrum, and if anything made the mission more dynamic and exciting than last time. Instead of a sob story, he charmed his way in with endless sweet praises that fell from his lips, oozing off suaveness. The guard, Joy, was not predatory. She was young and naive, easily falling into Baekhyun’s trap when he serenaded her with an old song he had written for Chanyeol years ago. 

Baekhyun felt both apologetic and complacent when he saw Joy’s face fall, her lips parting as if to say something, eyes large with betrayal. Complacency, because Baekhyun was glad to see that his acting was effective enough to capture the guard’s heart in just an hour. Apologetic, because she was innocent but would be punished for letting a thief slip by. 

“You got the money?” Baekhyun asked after closing the car door behind him. 

“Yessir, right here.” Chanyeol grinned proudly and showed off his lumpy black bag. 

“Fuck yeah!” They high-fived. Before Baekhyun could fully catch his breath, suddenly a siren sounded in the distance. The kind of slow siren that sounded like a ghost’s echoing wail. 

“Shit,” Chanyeol cursed and quickly started the engine. 

Baekhyun stared wide-eyed at Chanyeol. “Are they after us? It can’t be.”

“I don’t know but we’re not taking any chances.” Chanyeol’s right arm reached over Baekhyun’s headrest and he backed up with one hand on the wheel. “You keep a lookout behind us.”

Baekhyun’s heart raced, not steadily and loud, but palpitating, as if afraid that beating too loudly would give himself away. Palms clammy, he turned in his seat to keep an eye on the car’s back window. 

“It’s clear for now,” he said with a strained voice, trying not to display the anxiety he felt. 

Chanyeol stomped on the accelerator and the car zoomed off as best it could for an old model, its wheels screeching against the streets’ damaged pavement. 

Exactly five years ago on Baekhyun’s birthday, Chanyeol had taken him to a new exclusive club that had opened up. The club was clearly for the most elite members of society, the kind built entirely of glass and overlooking downtown skyscrapers, without a stripper in sight. How they managed to sneak in, Baekhyun had no idea and didn’t bother asking, as Chanyeol had always been a master at scamming his way through life. There, they dined on the most delectable five-course seafood meal and washed it down with the most ambrosian wine. So sweet was the wine that they couldn’t stop drinking glass after glass, savoring the flavor on their tongues. They passed out on the balcony lounge chairs. No one knew them and the self-absorbed millionaires didn’t bother to wake them up. 

Minseok’s call interrupted their sleep. A groggy Baekhyun barely heard Minseok’s reprimands, only aware that Minseok sounded incredibly exasperated. Before hanging up, Minseok yelled about something starting in an hour. An hour. Class in an hour.  _ Shit _ .

Chanyeol and Baekhyun scrambled out of the club and into Chanyeol’s car. They raced the clock, Chanyeol biting on his lip in concentration as he drove, Baekhyun muttering “my mom’s going to kill me” nonstop. This was one of the few instances Chanyeol didn’t carry his usual laid-back shell. 

Flash forward to the present, this is the second time Baekhyun has seen Chanyeol so concentrated. Despite this, Chanyeol remained level-headed, not a worry-line on his forehead. 

Minutes passed by like hours, but Chanyeol didn’t stop driving. At some moments, the sirens sounded like it was next to them and Chanyeol would swerve to the next lane. Eventually, a long stillness settled in the air.

At last, Baekhyun shattered the silence. “Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there,” Chanyeol replied. 

“There” turned out to be an abandoned lake park across the city. They stumbled out the car, tripping over each other’s limbs and were laughing again. Chanyeol’s hearty voice boomed over the crashing of the lake’s waves, while Baekhyun’s mirthful chuckles were swept away by the breeze. The city lights reflected on the lake surface, blurred like a watercolor painting. The air was warm for early May and the wind hugged Baekhyun’s chest. 

“Holy. Shit. I can’t believe we just did that.” Baekhyun’s voice still trembled, nerves not yet loose. 

“Really? I can.” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol and cocked his head — a silent question. Chanyeol continued, “Only the two of us could have pulled that off. We’ve done extraordinary things before. Remember five years ago when we made it back to class by completing a two-hour drive in less than one?”

Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah, I remember. But we didn’t run from the police that time. This is… this is different.”

Chanyeol smiled and a dimple carved into his left cheek. “Still extraordinary.” 

For the first time since they broke up, Baekhyun got a truly good look at Chanyeol. The wind tousled Chanyeol’s hair like ocean waves and his skin was roughened by years of meandering. His eyes reflected the entire world, never a victim of tunnel vision. Those eyes that crinkles in the corners when he smiled, but besides that, he carried no wrinkles like the usual office worker. 

But most importantly, Baekhyun was able to see Chanyeol’s character over the course of the years, the ways he had changed and remained the same. Certainly, Chanyeol was more mature now. Yes, he might have robbed two banks, but so had Baekhyun. Chanyeol, though daring and reckless, was also supportive and attentive. While in college, Chanyeol had taken Baekhyun on many unsolicited adventures, now he presented the adventure to Baekhyun and let Baekhyun make his own decisions. It was like the difference between pushing someone off a bungee-jumping platform and agreeing to accompany someone for the jump. 

The core of Chanyeol was still the same, unwilling to give up his philosophy in life despite their tragic breakup. Ultimately, he had convinced Baekhyun that the search for stability would end up in unsatisfaction. It had taken four years and an endless stream of patience, but Chanyeol still managed to get his way with things. 

Baekhyun surprised himself with this nuanced realization. Taking a break off work had paved room for him to think, truly think. 

Maybe it was the remnant adrenaline that possessed his brain when Baekhyun suddenly reached for Chanyeol’s collar and pulled him down, locking their lips together. There were no sparks flying, no butterflies, no tingling sensation. It was not their first kiss, which saved them from awkwardness. It was surprising how easily Baekhyun molded back into the shape of Chanyeol’s lips, their kisses deep and passionate. They were not motivated by lust. Rather, a profound emotional connection tied them together — the promises kept, adventures they had, and the way they made each other better people. Like this, Baekhyun loosened and felt comfortable. 

But then, Baekhyun remembered that his realizations about Chanyeol had not been spoken aloud yet. He pulled apart. A strand of saliva stretched between their lips before breaking. 

“No. No, no,” Baekhyun muttered. His doubts grew again — there was no reason why Chanyeol still wanted him. There was too much left unresolved between them to be doing this, too many words unsaid, questions unanswered. 

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked, concerned. 

“This shouldn’t be happening.”

“This? What is ‘this?’” Chanyeol signaled quotations with his hands.

“You know exactly what this is,” Baekhyun said, avoiding a direct answer. 

“It seems that I want you and you want me. Why would we avoid ‘this?’” 

“But  _ why? _ Why would you want me when I treated you like crap?” A wave slammed across the rocks in the background, amplifying Baekhyun’s frustration. The question that had been bottled for years had been released at last.  _ Why, why, why? _ That was always the question — Baekhyun could see it in Chanyeol’s eyes that the latter was still attached to him, but it made no sense.

Chanyeol sighed but his expression softened. He took a deep breath before answering. “I’ve waited four years to talk to you about this. You know, I wondered that same question too. For months, I hated myself for still liking you even after everything you said to me. I was confused because I was supposed to hate  _ you _ , not myself.” His brows furrowed like he was reliving the moment. “But I realized I couldn’t hate you because it was never  _ you _ that broke up with me. I know it was your parents behind it all. I know you were lying when you said you had pretended all along to love me. I’m right, aren’t I?” He looked straight into Baekhyun’s eyes, as if daring him to disagree. 

There was no point in lying when Chanyeol saw through Baekhyun like a piece of glass. Maybe Chanyeol knew Baekhyun more than he knew himself. Instead, he dropped his gaze. 

Chanyeol continued. “I’m right. I know I am. Every time you avoided me at those parties, I knew you still felt something. Tell me I’m right, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol tilted Baekhyun’s chin up so that avoidance was impossible. 

“Fine. You’re right,” Baekhyun confessed. “Happy now?”

Chanyeol let go of Baekhyun’s chin but moved down to grasp Baekhyun’s hand. “I’m not done yet. Tell me, what do you want between us?”

“I don’t know.” It was true, Baekhyun didn’t know if he was ready to dive into a commitment yet. He had just barely accepted his feelings for Chanyeol. 

“Then let me tell you what I want. I don’t care how you think about me. We can stay friends, acquaintances, lovers, take it slow, whatever you’d like. I just want you to find yourself.”

Baekhyun parted his lips to say something, but no words came out. He didn’t have the vocabulary to express how grateful, but not surprised, he was at Chanyeol’s words. How selfless but true — Baekhyun needed to rediscover his purpose. 

“I can be patient,” Chanyeol said. “Only if you want me to wait.”

How had a phone call about a heist turned into a confrontation between two past lovers? In the span of a month, Baekhyun had undergone immense boredom, thrill, reflection, and guilt. While burying himself in work, he had almost forgotten that such a wide range of emotions existed and his brain hadn’t been able to handle all of it. If just one month could change him this much, what would a year do? Three years? A decade? He would eventually find himself, he was certain.

Baekhyun swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They sat on the roof of Chanyeol’s car, knees occasionally brushing against each other, wrapped in a blanket of comfortable silence. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out, its cries forlorn and haunting. Another bird responded, and then both their voices mingled into a hopeful melody, no longer alone. The sky blushed soft shades of lilac and apricot as the city began to awaken.

Once again, Baekhyun was struck with nostalgia, but instead of reflecting on the past, this nostalgia was for the future. This sensation was not a poignant sadness, but a dreaming wistfulness when he thought about the infinite possibilities that the future held for him, the adventures he would go on, the people he met. He didn’t know who, where, or how, but he knew it would change his life for the better. 

And Chanyeol would be by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a few days, un-beta'ed, fully aware that I could have made it much longer and fully fleshed out their relationship. But I mostly wanted to highlight Baekhyun's thought process when grappling with the beauty of recklessness.
> 
> The nostalgia at the end is also known as "saudade," a Portuguese term. https://www.dictionary.com/browse/saudade


End file.
